.

.


Blog For Free!


Archives
Home
2009 July
2009 April
2009 February

My Links
farfarello

tBlog
My Profile
Send tMail
My tFriends
My Images


Sponsored
Blog



Dear Capitol One,
02.27.09 (12:19 pm)   [edit]

Thank you so much for your letter. I am glad you have decided to keep an honest and open communication with me. After all, we have been together now for almost 10 years and the money I have spent in interest to our relationship couldn't possibly be measured any more.

I am sad to hear that the economic environment has affected you, I feel awful for you. I can't even imagine how horrible it must be for you. I really felt bad when I heard your CEO, Fairbanks, got hit with a million dollar loss in compensations and only received $17 million in stock options.

I know government assistance is hard to survive on. You only got $3.56 billion in November and you didn't even get food stamps. Holy crap!! They didn't make you stand in line with the welfare folks, did they? I couldn't bear to know you had to slum with the poor.

And of course I would love to help out. I care about you just as much as you care about me, so please go ahead and tack on that 24.9% variable rate if you think it will help you. And of course tack on that annual 29.4% floating above the prime rate. I love that...I think that will really get you out of the hole. I am so happy you have found a way to pass the buck and lean on me. After all you helped me in tough times, too. Remember when I lost my job and needed to float groceries and my electric bill on your tab for a few months.

What would I do without you?

I promise I will send out this letter to all my friends to spread the word.

Sincerely,

Consumer 8721

 

 

 
What do you think?
02.26.09 (11:52 am)   [edit]
 
Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are suing a baby stroller company. Don’t worry, the strollers didn’t put the twins in danger. Jen and Marc are just really, REALLY greedy.

They’re suing the manufacturer Silver Cross because they’ve been using a picture of them pushing the twins in their strollers, in their ads.

The company never checked with Marc and Jen for permission, and hasn’t paid them for the pics, so they’re suing the company for trademark infringement.

The suit claims Silver Cross used their photograph online and also in ads without their consent, in turn deceiving the public into "believing that Lopez and Anthony endorse and sponsor" the company.

Oh whoop-di-do! Poor J-Lo! How dare someone think she’s a sponsor of a baby stroller?! She and her husband are seeking $5 million in damages, along with a permanent injunction against the company ever using their names and images.

It's pretty sad for people like them to be asking for a multi-million dollar payout when some parents have been out of their jobs for months. If they do end up getting the $5 million, we hope they do the right thing and give it all to charity.
 
Words of Wisdom Saturday
02.21.09 (3:59 pm)   [edit]

So because I am bored and I think that people are always looking for nice words to read, or to think about something that may expand your minds, I am starting a new segment.

Tada!!!!!!!

Words of Wisdom Saturday....

Every (or as many as I remember to do) Saturday I will post a new Quote and possibly add my thoughts. You should too! Comment on them and we can have a nice little chat.

Drum roll please....

Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn’t know you left open.

-John Barrymore

 
Beater Defender!
02.21.09 (11:08 am)   [edit]

Do any of you know people that you cannot have a normal conversation with? Where you have to remind yourself, that around them, you have to be very un-opinionated? Let me clarify what I am talking about. These people/person will ALWAYS think they are right, when they are soooo wrong, so you limit the topics you talk about, but sometimes, in conversation, important topics like politics, movies, news, celebrity gossip, etc. come up and you can’t help by listen the idiotic views they have on said topic? You can’t get a word in and when you do, they hear what they want and twist everything around, so all you want to do is bang their head against a wall until they beg for mercy and agree to listen to what you have to say so they can hear the whole thought.

I work with those people. All of them. Yesterday a co-worker was talking to me about Rihanna and Chris Brown, in case you live in a cave, Chris Brown “beat the crap” out of Rihanna and there is a pending investigation as to what happened. Pictures were “leaked” and now everyone knows how Rihanna looked after pissing Chris Brown off, ok back to the story. So…we will call him Shaggy (ironic because he is as bald as a baby’s tucus!).  As I walked into my cubical Shaggy asks if I have seen the pics of Rihanna, our convo:

Me: No…(logs on to computer and goggles pics)Ooh my! Yeah I just saw them wow!

Shaggy walks to my cubical: Nasty right? Man Fuck Chris Brown, I hope he gets put in County Jail

Emily: Yeah well, we will see what happens. There have been so many outrageous stories, that I bet the real story is just something so stupid and simple. Wow how embarrassing for her, not only does she have all these crazy rumors, now she has pictures to back it up. (Looks at screen and reads the article)

Shaggy: Emmmm (he can never say Emily)…are you defending Chris Brown?

Me: Whaaat? Now I was just saying tha---

Shaggy: No I see what you are saying. You think that it’s not even true huh? That the pictures are fake?

Me: No I was simply saying that beca---

Shaggy: No no, Rihanna hater! (Walks to his cubical)

Me: Shaggy, I was simply saying that I am sure she wants this whole thing to be over with and now with the pictures relea---

Shaggy: (another co-worker walks by) Cheeks… Emmm is defending Chris Brown

Cheeks: Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa aaaatttt?!!! Milly! (another one with the inability to say Emily)

Me: ((((rolls eyes as Cheeks comes to my cubical)))) Hey Cheeks! No Shaggy is over reacting I was just saying tha---

Cheeks: Oh no! Milly! What he did was wrooong!

Now Shaggy comes over : Don’t waste your time Cheeks, she is so a Rihanna hater.

Me: ****Irritated as hell**** LOOK ALL I WAS SAYING WAS THAT I AM SURE RIHANNA JUST WANTS THIS TO BE OVER AND THE FACT THAT PICTURES WERE RELEASED MAKES IT WORSE FOR THE POOR GIRL. WHAT HE DID IS WRONG…BLACK AND WHITE. I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE, YOU DO NOT HIT ANYONE, ESPICIALLY...A MAN SHOULD NEVER HIT, PUSH, PINCH, BITE WHATEVER A WOMAN! SO STOP SAYING THAT I AM DEFENDING HIM AND WHAT HE DID.

Cheeks and Shaggy: Wow….

Shaggy: Clam down now Emmm….no need to get all worked up.

Me: [deep sigh, looks at computer screen] well then…

 
JoKoy!
02.21.09 (8:24 am)   [edit]

Last night J and I went to watch Jo Koy perform. If you do not know who Jo Koy is, please visit this link www.jokoy.com, he is the funniest Filipino comedian I have seen and I am in love with him! Seeing him last night was hands down the best way I could have spent my Friday night. I am so addicted to him, I wish he was mine!

 
Ohh that smell...
02.20.09 (7:24 pm)   [edit]
Dear Personages of the Female Persuasion Who Share the Public Restroom on My Floor:

While I am thrilled that you are thrilled with what is undoubtedly very expensive perfume, it really is unnecessary for you to bathe in it each and every time you go to the john.

Really.

Trust me on this.

I’m sure it’s very lovely scent, but I can’t really be certain because the stench of it practically knocks me unconscious every time I enter the damn bathroom.  It’s hard to appreciate the smell of something that is physically assaulting you - and winning.  It is, in fact, so bad that I’ve been seriously contemplating the mechanics required for the use of a urinal without a penis.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make an appointment with an ear, nose and throat specialist, to see if my olfactory sense will ever operate normally again.  In the meantime, I’m sure I’m not the only person in a five-mile radius the building who would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to throw the Chanel No. 5 knockoff out the window practice a little moderation.

Thanks ever so much,
Emily

 
Why oh why?
02.20.09 (2:55 pm)   [edit]
Once upon a time my pants stopped fitting. My jeans were unusually snug. I figured my legs were still damp and that explained the painted-on look. But, I started worrying when I was required to actually look at the button and buttonhole in order to fit them together. I got them on. I could breathe. I could walk. But... WTF! I thought, how the hell did I gain thirty pounds overnight? Wasn’t I just wearing these jeans last week? Oh God. These jeans were loose last week. So loose my butt crack showed and J laughed at me. Now my butt crack doesn’t have the capability of wandering out of the top of the jeans, but the tightness is probably creating lower back cleavage and that’s worse than butt crack special appearances, and shit I’d better put on a shirt just in case there is a hidden camera in my bathroom. What if there’s some sicko who broke in and put one somewhere? Did he see me naked? Did he see my lower back cleavage? Emily! You have an overactive imagination. Nobody can break in when you never leave the structure of this house. Okay, good.

You know, I couldn’t fit underwear under these pants if I wanted and I’m squeezed so tightly the excess me will spill over the top and I’ll look like a giant bran muffin walking around. Bran muffins are gross! This sweatshirt isn’t going to cover it up! Or maybe it will but I’ll be all baggy on the top and then have Kenny Chesney legs. OH MY GOD. I look like Kenny Chesney. I’d better just shave my head and find a cowboy hat. Everyone’s going to laugh at me. I’m the female Kenny Chesney. But I won’t be able to wear form-fitting muscle shirts because I have no muscles and I’m not sure if I shaved my armpits and my boobs will probably fall out the rather loose sleeveless region and the shirt will show off the bran muffin situation. Crap. I’m going to have to start writing songs about piña coladas on the beach and tractors and women I once loved. I don’t like piña coladas. I don’t like sand. And I don’t know how to drive a tractor while being sexy and I haven’t been in love with a woman. I don’t know if I can even get on a tractor in these jeans. And if I sit on it while driving I certainly won’t look sexy because of the muffin situation. I wonder if I can stand up and drive a tractor. Maybe that’ll look even sexier because I’m totally in control of that machine and I’m not scared to stand while driving.

I could even dance. I could probably dance in these. I should get out of the bathroom and get started on those things or these pants will never make sense in my life. Maybe if I do some lunges here and there they will go back to their normal size. Lunge lunge lunge. If I was a dancer I’d wear spandex all the time and these pants wouldn’t feel so weird. Maybe I should stop putting my jeans in the dryer. It’s probably not me at all. It’s the dryer. But how could the dryer make my jeans look like leggings? Hey, remember those leggings that looked like jeans in the 80s and you wanted some? Shit. Now I have some. But below the knees is all baggy so it’s a dead giveaway that I’m a fat ass and these aren’t some cool retro pant resurrection. Well, at least now there are some wrinkles in the thigh area. Maybe that disguises the situation.

So I left the bathroom and prepared to leave the house. I was standing on the porch stairs waiting for the dogs to finish their business so I decided to do some more squats. As I was squatting I studied the bottom of my pant leg.

Something’s wrong here. How did these jeans get to be this color? They look strange. Maybe I bleached them. God they’re tight on my thighs. Maybe it looks good. Nah. Good thing I don’t have a full-length mirror. I’d probably be forced to find a muu-muu to wear over the jeans if I saw my ass. How did these jeans get so strange? How did this happen to me? WHY GOD WHY.

And then I realized I was a dumbass. I was wearing J’s Wranglers.

Actually, that’s not true, but it made for a better story. The truth is that I’d somehow managed to find and don a pair of jeans I wore several years and several pounds ago. Jeans that are two sizes smaller than the ones I thought I was wearing.

The good news is that I can get those pants over my ass and button them.

The bad news is that the initial crisis destroyed my already teetering self-esteem by making me think I was fatter than ever, that I was now Kenny Chesney’s female counterpart, and that I would somehow be required to learn to sing, write songs, dance, drive a tractor, look sexy, and fall in love with a woman.

Actually, that’s a lie too. It happened yesterday, but I’m still all shaken up about it.

Clearly, the bad news is that I have a lying problem. And that I need to reconsider my love affair with junk food so that those jeans might actually work over underwear. If I had any that is.

Hi y’all. I missed you.